


every moment, this city was with us

by midzyzen



Series: pocztówka z wwa, lato '19 [3]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Car Trips, Childhood Friends, Coming of Age, Friends to Lovers, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Separations, Summer Love, inspired by nct lyrics, no shit it's an nct fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:48:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23547169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midzyzen/pseuds/midzyzen
Summary: Mark’s relationship with Donghyuck is difficult.After all, Donghyuck is everything and infinities are hard to understand.
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee
Series: pocztówka z wwa, lato '19 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1847740
Comments: 12
Kudos: 65





	every moment, this city was with us

**Author's Note:**

> hello nctzens...i come back like the prodigal daughter i am...
> 
> le special thanks to my best friend [kinnie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tofugumball/pseuds/tofugumball) who is not just the beta of the year but the writer of the century and i think potterheads will love their fics...
> 
> also a shoutout to my other best friend [paddie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/frougge/pseuds/frougge) they didn't beta but they're hella sick also a newly debuted jaeyong writer i think we should think about it
> 
> there's a playlist for this [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6M72AEkic7Vo8TPXgtc9Up?si=2qGt6vVlSKOkFDLDKXqdEA) it's just nct songs i plagiar- i mean was heavily inspired by embarrassed emoji 
> 
> the title is a lyric from city 127

Mark’s relationship with Donghyuck is difficult.

It’s not because it’s difficult to be around him, if anything Donghyuck is the easiest person to be around. It’s not the way they operate, because after a few years Mark is perfectly familiar with how they work. It’s not the way Donghyuck makes him feel, like a breath of fresh air in an empty street when your mundane life has had you locked in.

It’s more so in the way there’s no right label for it, no way to sum Donghyuck up in one word. 

It should be simpler, really. The first class Mark had in university was about definitions; we define things based on their properties and functions. Donghyuck isn’t a thing, is blurry and inconsistent in qualities and Mark would hate to functionalise him, but for the sake of wrapping his mind around it, he does.

*

_ Donghyuck is his best friend.  _

Mark met Donghyuck on his first day of high school, stressed out of his mind. He didn’t know anyone and it was the last three years of his life before university. While everyone around him seemed stoked about the new situation, getting to know each other, he was not. 

Until his eyes lay on a boy with thick auburn hair parted midway, eyes bored, ears pierced from the helix to the lobe. He was sitting in the row ahead, just a few feet away, and Mark couldn’t stop looking at him. Till this day he’s been having issues with that.

They had classes together, a few of them, and Mark would sometimes sit next to him. When he didn’t, he’d resolve to glancing at Donghyuck when he wasn’t working. They talked more as weeks went on, they grew closer. Soon enough, Mark was welcome to sit next to Donghyuck in every class they shared. They’d spend the breaks on the school courtyard if it was warm enough, or sitting on the floor of the hallways, talking the days away. 

If you asked anyone who Mark’s best friend was, they would without a second of doubt say Donghyuck. The problem lied in Mark questioning if Donghyuck wasn’t more.

Because Donghyuck doesn’t feel like their other friends do. Renjun, Jeno, Jaemin — Mark loves them all to pieces, but he’s never felt overwhelmed when Renjun would tackle him into a hug. He’s never lied on the grass with his head on Jeno’s thigh and wanted to stay like that forever. He’s never suddenly been taken over by an overwhelming want to kiss Jaemin when they were talking.

That is Donghyuck territory. 

Mark’s proudest moment in high school was when a classmate asked if he was allowed to take Donghyuck to prom, because she was meaning to ask her own girlfriend. Mark remembers swallowing heavily, before telling her that neither him or Donghyuck were going to prom in the first place.

*

_ Donghyuck is smart. _

When Mark pulls up at his block at one in the morning, Donghyuck is already waiting. He’s wearing a loose t-shirt and shorts, even at night he doesn’t like to overdress.  _ It gets chilly _ , Mark would have told him, if they hadn’t already had this conversation a thousand times before.  _ It’s summer, Minhyung _ , Donghyuck would have replied. Or  _ you’re not my mother _ , if Mark had caught him particularly cranky.  _ I just care about you,  _ Mark would have thought, not brave enough to say things like that out loud.

Donghyuck’s clothes are oversized, he says he likes being comfortable. He looks like Eminem in 2003, but Mark lets him be. After all, Donghyuck doesn’t like to be restricted. Restrictions, to his mind, come in any shape or form.  _ It starts with clothes _ , Donghyuck says,  _ and suddenly it’s the government, society _ . Mark doesn’t agree, but he likes the way Donghyuck thinks. He likes the way the clothes flutter in the wind as he speeds down the street, Donghyuck standing in his convertible.

They’ve never got a ticket, yet. They’re above the law in the dark of the night.

“You knew I’d be coming,” Mark greets him. Donghyuck rolls his eyes.

“You’ve known me four years now, Minhyung,” he says, “I was hoping you’d get the hint I’m intelligent. I skipped a grade for a reason.”

“I’m not saying I ever doubted you,” Mark starts the car. Donghyuck’s hand is already waiting for him to hold over the gear. “It’s admiration.”

“Now you say that,” Donghyuck scoffs. “Feeling sappy before leaving?”

“Shut up,” Mark says, curling his fingers over Donghyuck’s palm. “You know full well I can start crying on you. Don’t you wanna do something more fun than watch me cry?”

“Fair point,” Donghyuck chuckles. He lays his head on Mark’s shoulder as they pull back and head into the night.

*

_ Donghyuck is short. _

Mark knows the city like the back of his hand. It’s like second nature. He always knows where he is in Warsaw and he can go anywhere and still know where he is. He takes a turn at the Stadium and they reach the bridge.

As they cross the river, Donghyuck gets up and raises his fist in the air. He doesn’t have to unfasten the seat belt, because he always refuses to buckle up. Donghyuck is shorter than Mark, but in the moment he looks bigger than life itself. Like a statue, the one he’s only seen on postcards. His eyes are closed; Mark wishes he had the privilege to keep his eyes closed as well, but there’s no missing the sight that’s in front of him. 

The buildings spread out across the warm, purple night sky. Mark remembers the time when it used to be pitch black and he could see the stars. He doesn’t know why it’s not anymore — perhaps it’s light pollution or actual pollution or both of them, probably — but he likes it better now. He likes the way it blends with the city skyline and with the lights that adorn it. He likes the way it reflects in the water.

He wonders sometimes if he’d love the city as much if Donghyuck wasn’t in it. It’s tricky, because it’s home, it’s been home long before Donghyuck came. But now he can’t imagine it without the younger, without the smile that spreads out on his face when Mark cruises down the street. When they pass the fake palm tree, Mark thinks he can’t imagine Donghyuck elsewhere, either. It’s tricky like that.

There’s no need to pick favourites, in the end. They compliment each other, the two loves of his. A backdrop from a movie scene and the only star worth looking at. It should be a crime to take both away from him. 

Mark takes a turn left on a street he remembers Donghyuck walking on one summer night. Mark told him to get back on the pavement. Donghyuck laughed and asked him if he saw any cars around. He didn’t; he was left with no choice but to join him.

_ * _

_ Donghyuck is hilarious. _

Mark likes to think that one of the reasons he shows up at Donghyuck’s door every night before he has to leave is because the younger is a good distraction. He’s good company; has always been one Mark sought after when he realised just how well they blend together. 

“Eyes on the road, Minhyung,” Donghyuck tells him. They’re waiting for the light to turn green, so Mark takes the opportunity to get a good look at Donghyuck. He won’t be seeing him in a long while, after all, and the city is empty, not a single car in sight. Much as he likes to act annoyed in moments like that, Mark knows the boy enjoys the attention, the way his watchful eyes take him in with adoration.

“Let me have this,” Mark pleads. Donghyuck looks particularly pretty with the gold of the streetlights illuminating his skin, the neon lights of the streets reflecting in his eyes.  _ Kia Motors. COMARCH. KGHM. Coca-Cola.  _ The city finds home in him just as much as Donghyuck finds home in the city.

“Fine,” Donghyuck sighs, “ _ simp _ .” 

Mark laughs, laughs so loud it echoes in the street. The light turns green, but he’s too busy smashing his head against the steering wheel to move. 

“Minhyung,” Donghyuck shakes his arm, but Mark bends over in laughter, unable to stop. He’s on that weird verge of crying, where you’re not crying just yet, but it feels like you are, “Mark, you absolute moron! It’s not even that funny, move!”

“You called me a simp,” Mark should pull over somewhere, because the tears are clouding his vision. He wipes them off with his arm, which later finds its way around Donghyuck’s shoulders. It isn’t that funny, he’s right. Mark reckons he just wants to laugh at Donghyuck’s jokes in person while he can. “It was so…”

“So what?”

“Random,” Mark finishes. 

“I’m quirky,” Donghyuck jokes, “isn’t that why you like me? Because I’m not like the other girls?”

“Funny, aren’t you?” Mark shakes his head. Donghyuck is lucky he’s a good driver or he would have swerved the car already. “Making fun of the gay guy, how brave.”

“If homophobia is not funny, why is it so funny?” Donghyuck simply asks. If Mark wasn’t leaving tomorrow, he would tell Donghyuck he’s the one with his hand on Mark’s thigh and his lips pressed against his shoulder. He doesn’t, though, he can’t risk Donghyuck pulling away.

Maybe it’s because he’s a distraction. Or maybe it’s because he’s the thing Mark will miss the most. 

*

_ Donghyuck is impossible to resist. _

Donghyuck often says that once Mark gets his hands on him, he doesn’t let go. They’re intertwined. Donghyuck’s legs circle his torso, while Mark holds his waist, rubs the fabric of his t-shirt with the calloused pads of his thumbs. Warm palms press against his collarbones, warmer lips trace patterns across his face. Of course Mark doesn’t let go, how could he?

An ugly voice in the back of his head keeps asking if Donghyuck does it with anyone else when Mark is gone. He doesn’t bring it up, mostly because he knows the younger will mock him and he won’t be getting an answer, anyway.

His thoughts are shut up when Donghyuck kisses him, like only Donghyuck can, sweet and gentle and reassuring. Mark melts. 

They’re parked at a lot near the railway station. Mark can hear the trains from here, but he prefers the little sounds Donghyuck makes when Mark runs his fingers through his hair. It feels like hours, and Mark would spend hours more if he could, but he wants to see the sun rise with Donghyuck one last time this summer. 

He pulls away.

Donghyuck looks distraught, heartbroken. The vulnerability vanishes in a flash, though, and before Mark knows it, Donghyuck is kissing him again. A plane flies above them.

He pulls away. 

“Minhyung,” Donghyuck whines. Mark feels cruel, but he smiles seeing Donghyuck’s hair messed up. 

“Come on,” he pats the side of Donghyuck’s thigh. They get out of the car and as soon as Donghyuck is ready to leave, Mark laces their hands together. 

He may pull away, but he never lets go.

*

_ Donghyuck is the crack of dawn, the city waking up, the new day.  _

It’s still dark when they make their way through the clearing of the trees to where they keep the old train carts. Donghyuck slaps the no entry sign before jumping over the gate. Mark follows suit and soon enough they’re on the roof of one. He can hear the trains clearer from here, and he can see the back of the skyline that no one remembers about. 

Donghyuck lies between his legs, Mark’s hands around his waist. The only restriction Mark doesn’t witness Donghyuck ever wanting to give up is the one of his arms. In fact, he embraces it, just like Mark embraces him, pressing a faint kiss to the crown of his head.

“Minhyung?” Donghyuck turns around, fiddling with Mark’s fingers.

“Yes?”

“Play us some music, I left my phone at home,” he says. It’s not surprising, Donghyuck doesn’t have anything on him, ever, unless he has to. 

“What do you want me to play?”

“Something quiet. Mellow,” Donghyuck tells him. So Mark does.

Nights like that, he would usually play something upbeat, so Donghyuck could dance and sing along. Mark loves watching him dance, it feels like watching a bonfire twist in the air. Mark would dance with him eventually, until they’d both be out of breath and would fall into each other.

But he will be gone in the morning and even the brightest fires have their lows.

The music is too soft to conceal Mark’s racing heart, he’s sure Donghyuck can hear it now. There’s nothing wrong with it, he thinks, if anything, he deserves to know just how alive he made Mark feel even then. 

*

_ Donghyuck is tactless, but he’s also the only person who tells him the truth. And Mark is the only person he tells the truth to.  _

“Minhyung, we should get going,” Donghyuck sounds pained. The sun keeps rising steadily above the skyline, a steady reminder of passing time. Mark wants to yell.

“Just a little more,” he begs and Donghyuck doesn’t try to deny him. He turns around and kisses Mark and it tastes so,  _ so _ sweet, even though it should be bitter.

Mark cups his jaw when they pull away, the realisation he won’t be holding anything this precious in a long while weighing heavy on his heart. 

“Come on,” Donghyuck whispers, “your flight’s in a few hours. Get back home and say goodbye to your family.” If Donghyuck were anyone else, Mark would strangle him for bringing it up.

“I hate leaving,” Mark is prone to the malpractice of stating the obvious. “It makes me want to scream.”

“Then scream,” Donghyuck stands straight. 

“I can’t,” Mark shakes his head, but Donghyuck isn’t having it.

“No one’s here,” he says, “just scream. Yell it all out, I’ll yell with you.”

Mark’s throat is hoarse, but he does as instructed. He screams into the night, Donghyuck screams, too, and there’s no reply. There never is. Mark misses the summer nights when the two of them would yell in excitement, rather than frustration, sadness.

“Let’s go, you’re really gonna miss that flight at this rate,” Donghyuck says suddenly, voice harsh. Or at least it sounds that way to Mark.

“Maybe I want to,” Mark says when they’re back on the ground already, “maybe I want to miss that flight.” 

“Minhyung, you have classes on Monday,” Donghyuck has always been an enthusiast of the harsh truth. Mark isn’t. Mark starts crying.

Donghyuck’s eyes soften and he pulls Mark into a hug. Donghyuck isn’t a crier, Mark has never seen him cry, but he’s someone Mark reaches out to almost instinctively when he loses control over his emotions. Donghyuck cradles him like a baby, lets him rest his forehead in the juncture of his neck. 

“It’s only three months,” Donghyuck whispers, “huh? You know you’re gonna be back soon.”

“It doesn’t feel like soon,” Mark sniffs. It’s childish, he’s acting so childish, but Donghyuck rubs circles to the small of his back and crying feels worth the embarrassment. 

*

_ Donghyuck is the summer, but Mark wishes he was all the seasons. Mark knows Donghyuck could be all the seasons, he’s just not there to see it anymore. _

One of the first things Donghyuck and Mark bonded over is being born in the summer. Donghyuck told him once,  _ it’s like summer starts with me and ends with you.  _ Mark replied, sixteen at the time, that there’s one more month of summer left after his birthday, so it doesn’t work like that.

Mark, now twenty years old, knows exactly what Donghyuck meant.

Donghyuck offers to drive them back, probably because he wants Mark to calm down. He doesn’t say why, though, so Mark can only speculate. They don’t say a lot of things. When they pull up at Donghyuck’s place, it’s light already. They sit still for a minute or two, neither of them brave enough to pull the plug. 

“Minhyung,” Donghyuck starts finally, “call me when you settle down. Or text me, or something. But I figured you might wanna call.”

Mark loves that Donghyuck calls him that, Minhyung. In his head, it’s like a better version of himself, one that only Donghyuck has the pleasure of knowing. One that Mark isn’t able to be anywhere else. 

He’s in love with Donghyuck, he’s known that since December of the year they met. Moments like these, where everything seems on the edge of collapsing, like it’s the end of the world, Mark wants to say it more than ever. He doesn’t, though. Donghyuck deserves someone who would tell him that all year round, who’d  _ be _ with him all year round. Mark is there for the summer and Christmas break.

And it’s not like Donghyuck says anything either.

“I’ll call,” he says. 

“Get back home safe,” Donghyuck says and his words carry more weight than ever, “ _ please _ . Get on that plane tomorrow. Please drive home safe.”

Donghyuck doesn’t often grovel to people like this; Mark takes it he’s scared. 

“I will,” Mark presses a kiss to his temple. “No worries, yeah? You’re right, I’ll be back soon enough.”

It’s not true, but it calms them down. Mark watches Donghyuck disappear inside and drives away. 

_ * _

_Donghyuck is_ _everything._

Donghyuck is his best friend, but he is also more. 

He’s the city. He’s the lights on the skyline, making it worth looking at. He’s a hypocrite. He’s insecure. He’s a genius. He’s home. He’s a Taylor Swift song Mark can’t get out of his head, he’s the bittersweet ending of a coming of age movie. He’s the only one who calls him Minhyung. 

He’s the orange light shining in the hospital courtyard throughout the night that Mark can see from the bedroom window. He’s the buzzing of the rails when the train is approaching. He’s the wind blowing through Mark’s hair. He’s sunshine of the day and the glow of the night. He’s summer — hot, burning. He’s the roar of the engine when they’re going too fast. He’s the first thing Mark would save in case of a fire. 

He’s the love of Mark’s life. He’s the reason Mark gets out of bed every day, even when he’s away. He’s the reason for Mark to come back. He’s a firework, bright and flashy and loud. He’s beautiful. He’s so beautiful Mark wants to melt into him like he melts into the asphalt of the city as it cools in the night. He’s Mark’s youth, his happiness. He’s freedom if Mark ever felt it. He’s life, a fire gone rogue while Mark watches it burn.

Donghyuck is everything and infinities are hard to understand. Maybe that’s why it’s so difficult. He can try, though, it’s going to be a few months until he can see Donghyuck again and what better way to kill time. 

It always feels like air being knocked out of his lungs when he leaves Donghyuck and their home behind. Mark learned not to cry on the way to the airport by now. His eyes get blurry then, and he wouldn’t be able to get a good look at things one last time.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> [buy me a ko-fi](http://ko-fi.com/joonswig) // talk to me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/neotshy)


End file.
